


I will make my mistakes

by kilala2tail



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kilala2tail/pseuds/kilala2tail
Summary: The first time he tried it, he was hoping just to get the thoughts out of his head.He didn't plan for it to become a regular thing.At least Evan knew people couldn't stare at something they couldn't see.





	1. No matter what I lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start

It started sometime in the winter of junior year. He had been thinking about it for so long, he just wanted the thoughts to stop. Maybe, if he just gave it a try, he would stop thinking about it so much.

It hurt less than he had expected. Or maybe he was just too numb to feel the pain as blood ran down his legs, painting little trails as it dripped onto the floor. He should have put something down first, he thought in passing.

His wrists itched.

Evan watched a little longer, the marks that were really no more than scratches slowly bleed and decorate his legs. Without a sound, he cleaned off the paring knife he had slipped from the kitchen and slid it between his mattress and box spring before standing to prepare himself for bed.

\---

Evan almost wished he had never tried, if he had known it would not have stayed a one time event.

“Ah…” A soft hiss escaped pursed lips as a new line appeared, gentle pressure pulling red to the surface. Red fell down to the paper towels he had thought to lay out before starting this time. They were enough, he had thought, seeing as while he was drawing longer lines this time, they were no deeper.

It was almost pretty, the bright spots of color on such pale skin. A horrified giggle passed his lips as he thought that, a broken smile forming as he realized how messed up it sounded.

\---

Tears fell as he sat alone, lights off and the setting sun casting shadows across the darkening bedroom. It had been a bad day. Stress piling from upcoming finals, teachers adding to it by already pushing the juniors to worry about college applications and getting a head start. Evan's head was swimming in the amount of information it was trying to keep straight, muddling things more than ever.

A senior rushing past knocked him to the ground while he was getting into his locker at the end of the day, resulting in a slice across his palm where he tried to catch himself. Jared was gone by the time he had managed to clean it up, the buses just pulling out, resulting in him trudging home in foot.

His mother was gone when he arrived, a note in her place explaining how she had been called in. She had promised they could order Chinese and rent a movie, the only thoughts that got him through the day.

He cried as, for the first time, he carved the lines in deep enough to truly hurt. Pain made his legs tremble slightly as he put more pressure on the blade, hands shaking enough to wobble soft curves into the lines. One of the only pieces of black clothing he owned, a tee shirt his father had mailed to him for his birthday last year, was being used to soak up as much of the blood as possible to minimize cleanup. His mother wouldn't notice it missing, just as she never noticed the knife from the kitchen a few months ago.

With a strange sense of detachment, he realized it would probably be a good idea to get a sharper blade soon. Dull knifes were more dangerous, after all.

Empty green eyes took in the mess in front of them as Evan stopped crying and sat in silence a few moments. With a sigh, he decided that was enough for now and went about cleaning up using some of the abundance in medicine supplies around the house that came with living with a nurse. He needed to study, and for once his thoughts were quiet.

\---

Summer vacation came in like a storm. Suddenly, school was no longer around to distract him, and Heidi was almost never home.

Evan’s arms itched.

_ Too obvious. What if someone from school saw and then told everyone and no one would ever talk to me again or oh god I can't let get Mom find out no not the arms. _

He started painting gentle lines on his stomach, just around his hips where pants would cover, and the itch lessened.

\---

Evan had made a mistake.

How could he seriously think he would be able to handle an internship? What was wrong with him?

His arms itched.

His first day hadn't actually started off so bad. The weather was beautiful for spending the day outdoors, and the area he was assigned to was one of the more quiet in the park. His co-workers seemed nice enough, many of them older than he was, and the person he was shadowing was a kind man in his late twenties, teaching him how to tour and clean up. So he wasn't sure where he went wrong.

One moment he was trailing the tour his mentor was in charge of, listening and trying to remember what he was going to be doing. The moment changed, and he was taking off down the path, desperately trying to get away before he had a full meltdown.

He didn't want go blame the old couple. The group had been warned it was his first day, so if they had any questions they were to be directed to the tour guide and he was there to learn. But he couldn't blame them for forgetting. It was just, they wouldn't let up with the questions even after he informed them he was new and just learning the answers. At one point, the man who had been pestering him snapped “Well, what good are you then!” Before finally turning to ask the guide.

He was off like a shot.

_ What good am I?  _ Evan asked himself this as he paused near the cabin, leaning against a tree to catch his breath and attempt to calm down before walking in. His mentor has called ahead apparently, since they waved him back out with an apology and promise the next day would be better.

_ What good am I? _ He questioned as he began the two mile walk home, making note to text his mom and let her know they let him off early so she wouldn't have to worry about rushing to get him between work and class.

_ What good am I?  _ Words, gentle traced into the skin of his thighs, once he reached the safe of his bedroom and began to unwind from the panic that had still been buzzing under his skin. He dash through the words with harsh strikes. No one needed him. His mother hardly cared to be around, his father had left years ago, his only friend treated him as a chore to be handled.

_ What good am I? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've worried some friends with some of the talks we've had in the past month umm.  
> (I blame DDLC.)
> 
> Side note- we've come to an agreement about lower arms and warm climates. Which. For someone so socially aware and who wears a lot of short sleeves, I feel like anxiety would keep Evan from doing anything in an easily visible area.
> 
> I don't know. People tend to lean on thinking Connor self harms, but.


	2. I say goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fall

Summer vacation was drawing to a close, and Evan couldn't feel anything but apathy. It was strange, normally thinking on the upcoming school year had him in knots. It was such a lovely day though, and one of his last at the park. He didn't dwell on the feelings long.

They let him off early, claiming he deserved a little freedom before classrooms locked him away from the outside world once more. The irrational side of him was screaming it was just that they were tired of him, trying to get rid of him. The overwhelming numbness kept him from caring much, though. This just gave him time to explore the park on his own. It was a good day to climb a tree, after all.

It was quiet, peaceful, wandering throughout the woods alone. No one was around, parents trying to get their children ready for classes, students getting in the last of their summer fun in. Few were at the park, fewer deep into the trees.

There were a lot of tall, beautiful plants in the area, but Evan knew of one particular red maple he made a point to visit in his spare time. It was hidden far into the park, still young in age but towering around the infant trees around it standing around fifty or sixty feet above the ground. It was beautiful to look up at, and he knew the sight from its limbs was even more so.

His arms itched as he reached up to the first branch as he approached. His legs burned as the fabric of his pants pulled against cuts not fully healed, bandages forgotten as he got ready for work that morning. His thoughts were silent, nothing but the rustling of branches disturbing him as he worked his way towards the top. It was warm in the sun, when he reached the point he decided not to climb any higher. A glance up showed a sky of blue and white. A look below suggested he was about halfway up, twenty five to thirty feet above the ground.

That was about the cutoff for fatality in most cases.

It was such a picture perfect afternoon.

Climbing the tree was unplanned for the day.

So was letting go.

\---

Evan didn't know how long he laid on the ground, gasping for air. His vision was spotty and blurred, nausea overcoming him as he forced himself to roll to his right. Coughs racked his body as nothing came up but bile and liquid, since he hadn't eaten before starting for the day. Trembles shook his form as he mentally took stock and attempted to starve off shock. Cuts and scratches littered his bare skin, a long tear down the back of his shirt.

His left arm didn't itch, it **burned**.

He didn't want to consider what this meant, not yet. Pain induced tears streamed as he laid there and just got his breathing under control. A look at his legs suggested than none of his newer marks had been reopened, which was some relief in the chaos. His belt held the pants up high enough to keep those on his hips covered as well. With that worry gone, he flopped onto his back and bit back the upset still rolling in his stomach. It took awhile, but eventually Evan was able to force himself to stand and stumbled back towards the ranger cabin to ask for help.

His phone stayed silent in his pocket the whole trip to the hospital.

_At least I have a reason for my arms to be sliced up now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to break his arm closer to the start of summer vacation to fit better, like "end of May or early June" right? But to save my life I couldn't reword it to work for me so. End of vacation it is.
> 
> Let me know how that sounds, yeah? I never went higher than a couple yards when I would climb trees as a kid, and /holding a shot/ never have I ever broken a bone. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you're holding up well. Take care of yourself.


	3. I'll cut through the mirage, then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A break

“You think I'm a freak? I'm not a freak. You're the fucking freak!”

The first day of senior year and Evan already knew it was a write off. His mom was trying to be encouraging, telling him to try to be positive, to work on the newest therapy attempt at building confidence, to ask people to sign his cast. She wanted to him to be better. He had said he would try, but.

Alana Beck talked right through him.

Jared Kleinman laughed him off.

There was no way he could ask Zoe Murphy.

And now Connor Murphy had shoved him over, in the middle of the crowded corridor, for a perceived slight. Because he thought Evan had been laughing at him, when it was just a mistake. Because Evan was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The school day hadn't even technically started, and he was ready to go home. To find a small, quiet place to be alone and try to avoid having a full anxiety attack.

He knew his letter wasn't going to be as positive as Doctor Sherman hoped. Knew his mother would be disappointed in him, should he bring it up.

The blond knew the other boy wasn't wrong. He was a freak.

His arm ached.

\---

Evan was frozen, unsure as to how to handle what was happening.

An apology. From Connor Murphy.

He wasn't sure what to do with this information. If he was told earlier in the day he would be in this position, he would have assumed he was being made fun of. And yet, here it was. The boy in question fidgeted slightly, looking sheepish as they spoke. The words were harsh, unpracticed and blunt. Not the sort of apology one would expect from most but. It was fitting, coming from this rough child. It seemed genuine, sincere in a way he wouldn't have thought possible from the kid of rumor.

“Now we can both pretend to have friends.”

Something in Evan itched at those words, and for the first time in a long time it wasn't his wrists. There was something about this other boy that called out to him, that made him want to keep the conversation from ending. Something that begged him to reach out, and keep this person from disappearing.

\---

Connor saw the letter, and Evan's world flipped.

\---

Things got messy, and Evan was swept away in the current. Lies, chaos, words spoken and not, all changing the world he knew. He was too busy trying not to fall apart, his blade forgotten more often as the aches of his new reality battered him internally.

Somehow, amongst the misunderstandings and confusion, two lost boys made of broken pieces found each other. Somewhere along the line, they became friends. Together, they began to put the pieces back together.

Wounds stopped burning as much when he walked, the time between adding to them growing more with each passing day. Newer cuts were morphing back to shallow scratches over carved groves more often than not. Evan stopped slashing himself to smaller segments as much, the urge to pick up his knife diminishing more and more as his new world settled around him. Falling dormant as he grew closer to other shattered boy.

Connor became someone important to him. Someone who saw him, someone who heard. Someone to reach out to when some days were too hard, and to catch when the other fell. It wasn't perfect; he knew that the two of them alone weren't enough to fix everything. But it was better than it had been in a long time, for both of them. 

With Connor came others. Alana, someone who he only knew in passing and always seemed on top of the world, admitted to being human and started using “friend” in place of “acquaintance” when referring to him. Jared, who had been adding distance between them for so long for the sake of appearances, came back to his side. Zoe, the girl he had placed on a pedestal like an idol, turned out to be an average person and good friend once he got to know her.

Evan's arms stopped itching as often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually a lot shorter originally?? Which is kinda funny to say, considering this really isn't very long. I don't know why I change so much when I transfer things from paper to Google, especially considering I whine so much about typing on a phone in the first place.
> 
> Side note- I'm calling you out, Kyu. Not reading my notes and then taking three days and some last minute edits to realize my titling system. For shame.


	4. The things I should have told you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth

It started with a bad day. For the first time in ages, the urge had come back. A presentation he wasn't ready for, a misaimed jab from Jared. Forgotten medication in the morning, a skipped lunch in the afternoon. His mother messaging she wouldn't be home, that there was money on the counter. Connor missing school because of his own bad day, with only a single short text in response to Evan's worries. Too many little things, all lining up in a row. Making it hard to ignore the need to scratch at the itch.

_Not the arms._

For the first time in a while, he added to his collection of scars.

\---

Connor wasn't supposed to find out. No one was.

Evan almost thought it was ironic it was him, though.

\---

It started out a normal Saturday for the two of them. It was supposed to be an average night. Connor would come over right as Heidi was leaving, talking for a few minutes as she prepared to walk out the door. They would order some sort of take out, probably Chinese or pizza, and Evan would work on the weekend homework while Connor sketched until dinner arrived. They would watch movies or play games for a while, then get dressed for bed and lay awake talking into the early hours instead of sleep.

It was comfortable. It was routine.

There were a lot of things Evan didn't take into consideration.

Like Connor getting ready faster than normal, since his hair was already pulled back for the night and how that typically added to his time in the bathroom. Or that they had an understanding an open door, even just a crack, was an open invitation in, and that he hadn't shut the bedroom door completely when he went to change. He hadn't thought anything of sitting on the bed to pull on his pajama pants, legs and hips on full display around his boxer briefs for just that moment. The cuts from a few days ago bright against pale skin and paler scars.

A choked “Evan, what the **fuck** ,” from the doorway quickly brought it all to his attention though.

For a moment, everything was still. Both boys stared at the other, eyes wide in shock. Evan felt the blood leave his face, paling as his eyes snapped away and he broke the staring contest they had unknowingly found themselves in. He sprang into action, yanking the pants on the rest of the way and grabbing the shirt he was planning to wear as he rushed past Connor to the bathroom. The door slammed in place and the lock clicked just he heard the older male reach for the handle. He leaned against the door as he collapsed, his breaths catching as he descended into panic.

_He saw he saw he wasn't supposed to see fuck what do I do no one was supposed to see is he going to tell everyone he was right I am a freak no no oh no is he going to tell Mom she can't know he's gonna hate me she's gonna hate me everyone is going to leave no_

Evan knew he had to calm his breathing, but his mind was racing too fast for the thought to really register. He scratched at his arms, hands trembling violently as he tried to ease the overpowering itch as he heard Connor on the other side of the door. He was going to be alone, once his best friend realized he wasn't anything more than a freak who hurt himself and wasn't worth the effort, and breathing became unimportant in comparison.

He didn't know how long he sat there panicking before Connor finally stopped pounding on the door, voice growing quiet. He didn't know when he passed out onto the cold tile floor, tears trailing his face as he mourned the loss of one of his most important people.

He didn't know that Connor sat against the door on the other side the whole time, his own tears falling as he tried to reach the broken boy inside.

\---

For a brief moment upon waking, Evan wondered why he was shivering on the bathroom floor instead of being in his room with Connor. A glance at the clock tells him it's the early hours of Sunday, and what happened came rushing back. A shaky sigh escaped as he pushed himself up. Heidi was working a double shift and wouldn't be back for some time still, so he just took a moment to stare in the mirror. Dull eyes on a tired face stared back. He was not excited about going out to an empty house. Evan rubbed his arms absently as he prepared himself to exit, noting he luckily didn't draw blood while he was freaking out and the evidence of nails scraping skin was long gone.

His wrists burned.

He paused, for just a moment, glancing at where the heavy cast had once been. There was a single scar running down his arm. Maybe. Maybe…

Evan knew what he expected when he finally left the room. He expected a quiet house, long abandoned. He expected to have been left alone in his misery. He had expected his best friend to finally realize he was too much work to deal with on top of the brunet’s own issues, for him to have disappeared. He never expected the other to stay.

So when he finally pulled open the door, he couldn't help but stare. Connor looked as if he may have been leaning on the wood before slipping sideways in his sleep. Salt trails were clearly visible down the boy’s cheeks, brown curls splayed wildly on the ground. His arms were wrapped loosely around his waist as if he had been trying to hold himself together, knees drawn close to his chest, and Evan couldn't help the rush of mixed emotions at seeing Connor curled onto himself as if in pain.

He must have made a sound as he stood there, a hurt whine while watching his friend lay in the hallway. Lashes protecting blue eyes fluttered for a moment before Connor gasped and bolted upright, whipping around towards where Evan was. He watched the older male quickly jump to his feet and face him head on. His green eyes shut tightly as he expected the questions to start, harsh words and cruel intent. They flew back open when instead he was yanked into one of the tightest embraces he had ever felt.

“C-Connor…?”

His complete confusion turned to mild horror as, instead of responding, the arms around him tightened further and sniffling could be heard. Connor buried his face in the space between Evan’s shoulder and neck, tears making themselves known to the shorter boy as he stood there, thrown completely off guard. He didn't understand what was happening. He didn't know why Connor had stayed, or why he was crying and clinging to Evan as if afraid to let go.

“H-hey, Connor…? Wha… What's… I mean…”

He felt the boy holding him shake his head, heard a whispered “fuck” before he was squeezed and Connor pulled away to look him in the face. Evan found himself staring into watery blue eyes.

“I… Shit. I think we need to have a talk, Evan.”

\---

The chill of the early hour filled the air as Evan sat silent in the kitchen, watching as Connor made their tea. Autumn was settled in full swing, and it felt fitting for the conversation they were about to have. A time of ends, as cold seeped into what was once warmth, and change took place. He didn't say anything as a mug was set in front of him, only wrapped his fingers around the ceramic and sighed.

They both sipped at their drinks for a few moments, soaking in the quiet of the morning. Then, with a sigh of his own, Connor spoke up.

“How long, Evan?”

He didn't want. He didn't want to admit that it had become such an important release over the course of the last year. He didn't want to say the words that would prove the first statement this beautiful boy had said of him at the start of the school year was true. Evan glanced at Connor, catching those bright blue eyes watching him with such a tired expression. The teen didn't want to burden the other, who was already going through so much on his own, with the truth.

And then the brunet spoke again, a single, weary word.

“Evan.”

And he knew he wouldn't be able to lie this time.

“...Sometime last winter. Before break, maybe?” He own gaze wandered back to the table, though he knew he was still being watched.

He heard a hum. “Almost a year, huh?”

He nodded, unable to find his voice.

Connor let out another sigh, a sad sort of noise. “Some of those looked fresh, Ev. How often do you…?”

Green eyes flicked up to meet blue before looking right back at the wood.

“Not often. Not, umm. Not anymore. It was a lot. Worse. For a while. It's rare, now.”

Fidgeting in his seat, he forced out more, though to reassure Connor or himself he wasn't certain. “And I’ve tried to never make them, umm. Make them too deep. Or hit the vein wrong. If. You were wondering.” The thoughts were there, a few times, but he wouldn't put it on his mother to clean up after him in such a way. Evan knew he wouldn't be able to voice that right now, though, and instead focused on looking anywhere but at Connor.

He startled when a pale hand suddenly wrapped around his left wrist. It was gentle, hesitant as its owner seemed to debate something before a decision was made. Water started to blur his vision as tears once more filled his eyes, unable to look away as the hand was turned and they both looked at unmarred skin. Save for the one long, pale mark where his arm had been set. He watched as, softly, long fingers traced the scar. “And this, Evan? Did you fall…?”

A pause.

“Or did you let go?”

He knew Connor had his answer when the tears began to fall, but. Evan knew he deserved to hear it. He knew it would be better to say the words, to finally set them free. They both deserved the truth. “I… I didn't. I didn't fall, Connor. I didn't fall.” And then, he was sobbing. Harsh, painful gasps of air left him as he cried. Someone knew. About the cutting, about the tree, about how many pieces he truly was in. He knew this wasn't everything, that there was still so much to say, but it was a start. He had told someone.

And for some reason, they were still there. Connor stood and walked around the table, never letting go of Evan’s wrist as he moved. He felt himself pulled up, lead over to the couch. As soon as Connor sat them back down, Evan attached himself to the other as if afraid to believe he hadn't vanished yet, and he let himself just feel the warmth of the person holding him like he was something precious as his emotions poured out.

“I'm here, Ev. I've got you. I'm here.”

\---

Heidi found the two boys tangled together on the couch like that when she arrived home from work. She smiled at the sight, though it turned concerned once she realized both boys had been clearly crying. A quick look around the room only had cold cups of half gone tea on the table to show, no other sign anything had taken place. She shook her head, grabbing a nearby blanket to cover them with and moving the cups to the sink before heading down the hallway towards her room. She was concerned, but they needed their rest. It would be better to ask after some sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, So. I'm actually kinda happy with this. Well, maybe not the very last paragraph, that's been rewritten several times and I still don't like it too much. The sudden break in character is... But overall. Welp.


	5. I'll be singing to the sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end

Telling one person didn't automatically make it better. It was a start, but it wouldn't be enough. He knew that, but he was scared to admit it. He just wanted to let things calm down for a while.

Connor refused to let him leave it where it was, though.

“You have to tell her, Evan. I can't. I won't always be around to help you. The fact that some of those are from Tuesday just proves that. You need to be able to tell someone.”

“It's not as bad now!”

“The fact that it's an issue in the first place is enough! Besides, she's worried, Ev. When you went to get dressed after you woke up, she was asking me if everything was alright. I'm not prepared to lie to your mother, Evan, not over this. And you don't want her finding out like I did, do you?”

“I don't… That's not...”

They froze when they heard a voice in the doorway. “Boys…? Is everything alright? There was a shout…”

Connor stared at him, blue eyes filled with worry and lips pursed. Evan glanced over from the bed to see his mom standing there, hovering at the threshold watching them carefully. He saw the way her eyes flicked between them, drawn down to where Connor had one of his hands in a tight grip and back up to their pinched expressions. Saw the way her own expression mirrored theirs, though she tried to put on a smile.

Evan knew telling the other boy wasn't enough.

He was scared, but Connor was right. Heidi needed to know, and she deserved to hear it straight from him instead of stumbling upon it like the brunet had. He had to tell her properly. Giving Connor's hand a squeeze he closed his eyes, swallowed, and reached out his other hand. “M-mom… Could you, umm, come sit with us? I, uh. Actually have something we need to talk about…”

She walked over with no hesitation to grab it and sit next to them on the bed. “Of course, sweetheart. What is it?”

It was a start.

\---

He had a family therapy session with Doctor Sherman and Heidi to discuss how to treat him. After he had managed to spit out the truth in his bedroom to Connor and his mom, she had suggested it. He knew there was no getting out of telling his therapist at this point. And it was clear in that moment as he watched her swallowing tears to just hold him it was something she needed as well. So he agreed without argument.

Evan was still scared, but he decided he had to move past the fear. If two of his most important people could listen to him and stay by his side, he knew it would be worth getting help. He watched Connor struggle constantly and keep pushing through. He witnessed Heidi put herself through hell and back and keep moving forward. He wanted to be able to stand with them like they stood with him.

Doctor Sherman said he was proud of him for taking the first step. It would be a slow healing process, but he was on the right path.

\---

He didn't plan on telling the others. It wasn't likely anyone else was going to stumble across his scars, and he was trying to get help for it now. His mother knew, his doctor knew, they had gotten rid of his blades. He was trying other methods of stress relief, like writing more and a variety of the tricks he was recommended like using ice cubes or running water.

But once again, Connor wouldn't let it go.

“Connor, why is this so important to you? I'm working on getting better! They don't have to know!”

“For fuck's sake, Evan, it's because I fucking care! I **know** you're working on it, but could it really hurt to have a larger support system? Aren't you the one always going on about asking for help isn't a weakness?”

“Th-that's different--”

“How?! How is that any different?!”

“It just is!! I don't, I don't want to just dump this on them! I'm working on it!”

“...And what about the days you slip, Evan? What about the days you start sliding back into that hole? The days you can't reach me or Heidi? What then?”

“I…”

“Evan, _please_ tell them. At least Jared. He's an ass, but he's not going to make fun of you for this. That way you’ll have someone else to text when your mom is at work or class if I'm not around.”

“...”

Connor heaved a frustrated sigh, fluffing his hair out by running his hands through the soft curls. “Look, I'm sorry for yelling. I know you're still afraid of them judging you. But, they love you, Ev. You're important to us. You're important to **me**. It's only been a couple of weeks, you're not going to suddenly stop. I would just… feel better knowing you'll have options if you can't reach me.”

Evan stared as the other boy paced the room muttering. He knew it wasn't fair to place so much on the older teen, to ask him to carry so much alongside his own burdens. And, the others knew something had changed between the two. It wasn't fair to them, either, keeping them in the dark.

He rubbed at his wrist.

“I… Okay. _Okay._  I'm sorry, Connor. Okay. I'll tell them. You're right. Let's, umm. Let's call them.”

He wasn't alone, and he needed to figure that out.

\---

It got easier, after that. Connor had been right. Telling the others and enlarging his safety net had been a good idea. Even if it has been extremely difficult to get out, resulting in Connor doing most of the talking and lots of sobbing between everyone.

There were days when his arms would itch like mad, so he would call Jared and hang out at the Klienman’s playing video games and eating junk food until they both crashed in a pile on the floor. Sometimes, while at the Murphy's, Zoe would see him rubbing his wrists and asked to paint his nails, or do facial masks with her, or put on a movie. There were times when he would text Alana and she would offer to come over to study, or she would arrive with baking supplies and they would chat while making treats.

Some days, he couldn't bring himself to reach out at all. Those days, Connor would arrive after some time, just to check on him. Sometimes, they would sit together silently as Evan cried softly. Others, he would be forced out the house to ride around town. They would walk around the local bookstore, or sit at a café, or explore a nearby park with ice cream in hand. He was always grateful that the other had gotten to know him well enough to be able to tell what sort of day it was.

\---

Replases happened. He knew that, but it was always terrifying to admit. Watching them happen to someone else, or experiencing it personally.

He called Connor from the state park, sitting surrounded by white as he leaned against the red maple. There was a box cutter on the ground next to him, blade driven into the snow and dirt. Evan stayed on the phone while he listened to his friend rush out of the house, words flowing a mile a minute to reassure him that Connor was on the way. Coming to get him.

_He's coming to get me. He hasn't given up on me. It'll be okay, because Connor is coming._

He smiled gently as he heard the other speak, claiming he was almost there. Green eyes misted when he saw the dark blur that could only be Connor grow near. He clung to his best friend once he was able to reach out and grab him, listening to soothing words and praise for calling before he hurt himself.

\---

_I love this boy. He's still here, and so am I._

Evan kissed Connor under the same tree a couple weeks later, a few days after Connor admitted to a minor relapse of his own as they wandered through the forest. He was proud of them both, and tired of pretending the beautiful boy meant any less to Evan than he did.

His wrists were warm in Connor's grasp as the teen gently pulled him closer.

\---

It was sometime in the spring of his senior year that he confronted himself in the mirror. He had been putting it off for ages, averting his eyes as he went about his life, trying not to dwell on them too long.

It hurt less than he expected. Looking at the scars lining his thighs and waist, he had expected more pain. But instead of the deep numbness that the marks used to bring, he felt a calm that was peaceful instead of empty. Scars meant his body had healed, and that he had overcame the hurts presented. If his body could do it, so could his mind.

A knock on the door informed him he had been standing there a while. Quickly, he pulled on his pajamas and called out that it was okay to come in.

Connor poked his head into the room, and Evan smiled as they finished preparing for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote.
> 
> I can only hope it was worth it. It feels like it has been. Shout out to [Kyu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightning515/pseuds/Lightning515) for making sure autocorrect didn't completely screw me over and giving it a lookover even though she has no clue what I was on about. Didn't stop her from yelling at me, certainly.
> 
> Consider leaving a kudos or a comment, and I hope to see you again my dears. Thank you so much for reading until the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. It took 11 handwritten journal pages, WAY to long to transcribe, deciding where to break it up into chapters, some... Interesting conversations, lots of YouTube, several hours of talking myself into posting, and mild sleep deprivation with a dash of leftover illness to reach this point.
> 
> Jonathan Young's English cover of "[Singing to the Sky](https://youtu.be/IRODlBb20po)" (Sora Ni Utaeba) is really good btw. Unrelated to the work, but it was playing and I needed a title so here we are.
> 
> Anyway. Thoughts? Love it, hate it, whatever. Let me know. Keep safe my dears. Until next time, happy reading.
> 
> And always, always remember. Someone really cares about you, kid.


End file.
